by EJ Lamprey
‘That’s an odd attitude.’ Shona looked belligerent and Edge gave up, rising to her feet.
‘I’m sorry you think so. As I say, crossed wires. I was under the impression you wanted to show me some casting options you’ve collected, talk about a six-episode one-off or a potential series, and how involved I would be. So far you’ve told me all the shows you’ve produced and I’m very impressed by your credentials. But that’s all we’ve covered. If you want my opinion, you’re very young to be working on a show about dating websites for the over fifties, and you seem quite keen to change it to something fairly gruesome. That doesn’t interest me at all.’
‘Shall we go for lunch?’ Shona smiled for the first time, improving her appearance one hundred percent, and Edge hesitated, taken aback. The younger woman stood up and told the big man, listening silently by the window, ‘We’ll be back at two. Get them to hold any calls, I’m leaving my mobile phone too. I’m sorry, Edge. I like to know I’m working with people with moxie and you’ve been so bloody polite so far. I was wrong. Begin again?’ She waved Edge forward to lead the way through the Black-Brown-Black office suite.
‘Okay, but let’s set ground rules. I don’t throw my weight around, and I dislike confrontation, but I speak up when I have to. I’ve been working this business for a long time, and to be honest I’d as soon not break in a new producer. I’d rather be working in a production crew that knows me, where I’m not having to prove myself the whole time.’
‘You would be.’ Another corpse waiting in the reception area jumped to open the outer door for them. Shona nodded at him and looked back at Edge. ‘And they told me you’re a sweetie when you get your own way, and stubborn as hell when you’re not happy with something. Fair assessment?’
For the first time Edge laughed, and nodded ruefully. They were crossing the main concourse and rather unnervingly a photographer was keeping level with them, a few feet away, the soft chattering of the shutter constantly audible. Shona had glanced at him, then ignored him, so she put her shoulders back and tried to do the same. It was so distracting that Shona had to touch her arm and point before she realized she had been called, and turned her head to see Donald, unfamiliar in a black greatcoat, crossing towards them. She stopped, surprised and pleased to see a friendly face in the unfamiliar environment.
‘Donald! How lovely! You didn’t say anything at breakfast about coming in?’ She saw Shona’s eyebrows go up and heat touched her cheeks. ‘I mean;’
He smiled into her eyes, ran a caressing finger up her throat and caught her chin between thumb and forefinger, lifting it slightly. As she stared at him doubtfully, he flickered the tiniest wink then bent to kiss her, his lips impersonal and firm as he lifted his arm and did a nicely-stylish crook behind her head to block the photographer. The camera chattered urgently and she suddenly wanted to laugh, but leaned back against his elbow, relaxing into the embrace. For all that it was fake, she felt slightly dizzy as he released her, turning to smile charmingly at Shona and introduce himself. ‘I’m sorry. Donald MacDonald.’
‘Shona Black,’ she offered her hand. ‘The choreographer?’
‘I’m wearing my investor hat today—most days, lately. I came by to see if Edge was ready for something to eat.’
‘Well, I’m taking her to lunch.’ Shona’s eyes rested on him speculatively. ‘You could join us, I suppose. You and Edge—I didn’t realize. Join us.’
‘Not if you’re going to talk shop. We can meet up later, Edge, call me. I’ll wait.’
She finally found her voice to say something and he left after a last lingering kiss beside her mouth, not as startling as the first, but again she could hear the camera stuttering. She fought down a grin and turned to look pointedly at the photographer.
‘Oh, ignore him.’ Shona waved a dismissive hand. ‘He’s getting stock shots. So, you and Donald MacDonald! Funny, I’d heard he was a very cold fish. Boy, was that wrong. He’s sexy for an old guy! So you’re living together?’
‘Donald’s a very dear friend,’ Edge said firmly, ‘and Shona, I’m starving. If that photographer is going to take photos of us eating, though, I won’t be able to relax at all.’
‘No, he’s done. Your agent said you had a few offers on the go so we wanted to be ready to go straight to press if you decide in our favour. I have to say you’re not at all what I expected. I thought you’d be a nice old duck in a woolly jumper but you look good and you’ve got a gorgeous lover on a lead—I’ll go first, follow me.’ She led the way into a crowded restaurant off the concourse and Edge followed her, smiling to herself. A gorgeous lover, he’d enjoy that. The advantages of having a gay friend who knew both fashion and the publicity business better than she ever would were still coming home to her, but being kissed publicly wasn’t something she’d expected. Public display was a bit of a horror with Edge, but when the man doing it was both expert and extremely photogenic, well, one could but be grateful.
‘You make a good-looking couple,’ Shona persisted when they’d found a table and ordered drinks, and eyed her speculatively.
‘He’s easy on the eye,’ Edge agreed, smiling. ‘But that’s not why we’re having lunch. Are we finally going to talk?’
‘Oh aye, we’re finally going to talk. Your script has six people; from a budgetary point of view we’d find that challenging. What I’d wanted to run past you was the possibility;’ she paused as their drinks were served, and Edge sharpened her attention, all her concentration now switched to evaluating not only the suggestions, but whether she could work with this unexpected and brusque woman.
~~~
There’s a fair bit of progress on Edge’s potential TV series, Donald invites her along to his slightly dubious social club (a visit which sails far, far closer than he had ever intended to the extremely dodgy world of leather fetishism and BDSM), and Vivian upsets the apple-cart by nearly dying of pneumonia. Regular readers will notice this book is called a Grasshopper Lawns affair, instead of the usual Grasshopper Lawns whodunit. It is a whodunit, and the clues are tucked in plain sight as much as they ever were. You can beat the friends to the solution if you don’t also get distracted—it’s all there, the usual challenge for the armchair detective. However, there is, this time, a completely unexpected affair. It is so distracting that I had to change the subtitle, because whodunit purists would not approve. Those purists will probably also want to skip Chapter Five. There are no clues in that chapter to progress the series, and it is as steamy as the book gets (not very steamy). But one way and another the four friends are definitely distracted, and even wondering whether they are so used to intrigue that they are making mountains out of molehills. They aren’t, of course. Overall the book stays true to its cozy whodunit genre. Red herrings happen. It is both the darkest, and the most light-hearted, book in the series so far. Begin again indeed.